The List: One Shot Writing Challenges
by knk4891
Summary: A collection of Alvin and the Chipmunks one-shots written by me, all based on a list of 110 story prompts. Couples, situations, and genres vary from chapter to chapter. More information inside!
1. Shelter from a Storm

**INTRODUCTION**

Apparently it's against the rules to post introductions as single chapters (I looked it up!), so I'll just post mine here. I found a list online of 110 one-shot prompts, and had an urge to try it. So for the next few weeks (or months… or, most accurately, years) I'm going to be working on completing this monster list. The trickiest part is that I am going to write them in order; so the first prompt on the list is my first story, the second prompt will be next, etc.

Now I know what you're thinking: "Why are you working on this and not _We're Off to See America!_?" or, "Hey, whatever happened to that _Pop Princess_ story you said you were going to write?" Well… they're coming. Trust me; I'll be working on them (as well as a few other projects). But lately I've just been in the mood to write little one-shots. It's almost like an exercise for my brain.

And as I said in the summary, themes, ages, time periods, characters, points of view, and couples will change. As of right now, the highest rating will be T, but even that could change, I suppose. The only thing that will remain the same will be that **all one-shots will be based on the cartoon version of the Chipmunks and Chipettes.**

So if you're ever in the mood for a short story, check some of these out. Follow the story so you know when new ones are made. Enjoy!

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**#1: Shelter from a Storm**

BOOM!

Theodore yelped from underneath his blanket. His body shook with fear as the rain pitter-pattered against the window. Why did it have to storm? And at _night _of all times! As if nighttime wasn't scary enough already.

"Theodore?"

The scared chipmunk recognized his brother's sleepy voice. He slowly poked his head out from underneath his blanket and saw Simon sitting up in his bed, looking at him with concern.

"Theodore," he said, "are you all right?"

"N-not really," Theodore admitted. Then there was flash of lightning followed by more thunder. This time, Theodore swore he felt the house shake.

"Ahhh!" Back under the blankets he went.

Above the strong, whistling wind outside, Theodore heard movement from his other brother's bed followed by a groan.

"Stupid storm," Alvin muttered. "I was having a good dream, too."

Theodore wondered how Alvin managed to sleep through most of the horrible storm. Theodore had woken up when he heard a raindrop.

He felt someone sitting on the edge of his bed. A gentle hand slowly pulled down the blankets.

"It's all right, Theodore," Simon said matter-of-factly, as if he was casually discussing his latest science project. "Thunderstorms are really nothing to be afraid of. This storm in particular should do minimal damage, according to the forecast earlier. Besides, we've had a bit of a drought lately, so the rain will be—"

"Oh, knock it off!" Alvin snapped, getting out of his bed and walking over toward his brothers. "You do this every time, Simon! He doesn't need a science lesson!" Alvin sighed and looked at his smallest brother firmly. "Theodore, you're nine years old. Don't you think that's too _old_ to be scared of a little thunderstorm?"

"Well," Simon said patiently, "I wouldn't call it _little_. Like I said before, it shouldn't do much damage. However, the volume of the thunder paired with the brightness and frequency of the lightning may suggest—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Alvin yawned. He waved a careless hand. "Whatever. Anyway, there's nothing to worry about, Theodore. It's just rain. So what if there's a little thunder and lightning? It's not a big deal."

Theodore gulped when he saw another flash of lightning through the window. "But what about that spooky sounding wind?"

"It makes the spooky sound because the speed—"

"Stop it with the lame science talk!" Alvin yelled.

Simon frowned. "Excuse me for trying to use this opportunity to educate Theodore about Mother Nature!"

Alvin snorted. "Educate? More like bore him out of his mind."

"Well," Simon scoffed, "at least I'm trying to be sensitive about this. He's scared, and all you've done is yell at him!"

"How else is he going to get through this stupid fear?" Alvin asked with a glare. "We've tried everything else. Maybe he needs some tough love!"

Simon shook his head. "A lot of good that's doing."

"Hey, at least I'm—"

Thunder cut Alvin off, causing Theodore to whimper. There was only one thing left to do; one person left to see.

"Um, thanks for your help, guys," Theodore said, grabbing his teddy bear. Before he could think about how dark and scary it was in the hallway, he rushed towards Dave's room and opened the door.

He was surprised to see Dave sitting up in bed reading a book, his bedside lamp turned on. He smiled when he saw Theodore clutching his stuffed bear in the doorway.

"Hi there little fella," Dave said kindly. "I was wondering when you'd come in."

Theodore grinned when his father scooted over. Theodore hurried toward the vacant spot and settled into the soft warm bed. He clutched his teddy and sighed. He was so grateful that Dave understood him; sure, they'd went through the typical, "At thunderstorm is nothing to worry about" speech, but Dave didn't question Theodore or try to correct his behavior when he came running to his bedroom during a nighttime storm. There was no "you're too old to be afraid" or scientific explanations; Dave would just let him lay there until he fell asleep.

But something else usually happened before Theodore fell asleep…

"So," Dave said without looking up from his book. "When do you think your brothers will show up?"

At that moment, there was another boom of thunder followed by a flickering of the lights. Then the lamp next to Dave turned off completely and they were surrounded by darkness. Theodore gasped, but then heard voices and shuffling from his bedroom down the hall.

"I think they'll be showing up any minute," Theodore answered with a small grin.

A few seconds later, Simon appeared in the doorway.

"Hello Simon." Dave was grinning.

"Um, hello," Simon said a bit nervously. He cleared his throat. "I, um, was wondering if I could perhaps join you two? The storm is so loud, and I think your window blocks the sound out a little better—"

"Come on in, Simon," Dave said with a chuckle. He and Theodore made room as the tallest chipmunk climbed in the large bed.

Less than a minute went by before a chipmunk wearing red pajamas marched into the room.

"Okay, here's the deal," he said loudly, "I'm _not _scared. The stupid flashes of lightning keep waking me up. It's like there's a million camera flashes going off in my face! And since Dave has thicker curtains on his windows—"

"Climb in," Dave said, and the others made room.

"Like I said, I'm not scared or anything," Alvin said, pulling the covers on. "I just can't sleep because of the—"

"Lights," Dave and his brothers finished for him. "We know, Alvin." No one pointed out that Alvin was a very heavy sleeper, and that lights probably wouldn't have affected him.

"Hopefully the power comes on tomorrow," Dave yawned. "It's late; I'm not going to worry about it tonight."

"Are you sure, Dave?" Alvin asked. He sounded a bit alarmed.

"Maybe you should take care of it now to get it over with," Simon said quickly.

"Don't worry fellas," Theodore said, nestling into the mattress. "We're safe in here."

He didn't see his brothers exchange confused glances. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful, happy sleep.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated. :)**


	2. Intense Stare

A/N: So this takes place in a courtroom, and I know the courtroom lingo (or whatever) is off, but I figured it would do. Special thanks to my friends at Turn Table who helped me figure out Klaus and Claudia's last names. You know who you are!

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**#2: An Intense Stare**

"We shouldn't be here," I groaned for the hundredth time that day.

"Would you knock it off?" My brother hissed beside me. "They're about to announce the verdin. It's not like we can leave _now_."

"It's ver_dict_," I corrected.

"Whatever," was Alvin's careless response. "Now be quiet, would ya?"

I squirmed, feeling uncomfortable in my suit that was at least one size too small. Why did I let Alvin drag me to this? We were supposed to be in school! What if Dave found out we skipped class to watch a trial?

Granted, it wasn't just any trial. It was for Klaus and Claudia Vorstein, the jewel thieves who used me, my brothers, and the Chipettes for their diamond smuggling a few years ago. Four months after they were in jail, they escaped. When they were out, the brother-sister duo did more than stealing; this time, they had ordered people killed and tortured to get what they wanted. After three years on the run, they were finally captured again.

Of course we'd heard everything about Klaus and Claudia's escape; it was in the newspaper, on television, and it was all anyone could talk about for a while. We knew what the trial date was, and of course Alvin wanted to go. I argued, saying that it was Friday afternoon, the same time we needed to be in our seventh grade classrooms. Obviously this didn't worry Alvin, as he was never too interested in school to begin with.

To make a long story short, he convinced me to go with him. I'm still not sure how he did it, but here I am, sitting here in this too-small suit in the back row of this crowded courtroom, waiting to hear Klaus and Claudia's fate.

The trial had stopped so the jury could make their decision; it only took them an hour. Short jury deliberations meant that they had reached a verdict quickly and easily. It didn't look too great for the Vorsteins.

I studied the criminals sitting at the front of the room. I could only see the back of their heads and bright orange jumpsuits, but every once in a while they would turn to look at their lawyers, giving me a chance to see their profiles. Both of them looked tired and much older than they really were. Klaus had stopped dying his hair; it was thin and gray, and looked like it hadn't been washed in days. His face, which looked fairly wrinkly years ago, looked incredibly worn. Claudia looked older as well, but I could tell that she did her best to look dignified for the event. Her make-up was very applied just-so and her pale blond hair was twisted into an elegant bun.

I looked at Alvin, who was literally sitting on the edge of his seat. He doesn't look particularly serious, like he wants revenge or justice; he just looks eager, excited even. I imagine my brother thinks its "cool" that he used to know and assist these "bad guys." He probably feels like he's on some sort of cop drama.

The judge said a few words, and the defendants rose. He read from a piece of paper.

"The jury finds Klaus A. Vorstein and Claudia D. Vorstein guilty of the murders of George Kliner, Jerry Miller, Thomas Black, Bethany Carter, Allen Thompson, and Linda Wagner."

A mummer of chatter buzzed through the courtroom.

"I hereby sentence both of the defendants a lifetime in prison without parole. And this time, you will be in secure holding cells to avoid escaping ever again."

More chatter. I heard my brother chuckle and nudge the man next to him.

"I knew they'd go down," he said.

Well. That was that. Klaus and Claudia were going to prison… again.

"Court dismissed," the judge said. He stacked some papers, stepped off the podium, and left the room as if he hadn't just sentenced two people to life in prison.

Claudia's sobs echoed through the room. Klaus kept running his hand through his greasy hair, looking distressed. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. What had they been expecting? Did they honestly think all would be forgiven and they wouldn't get punished? They murdered six people, and probably more whom we don't know about.

Everyone remained seated as the siblings were escorted out of the room by half a dozen policemen. I shuffled in my seat. Alvin and I were sitting on the very end in the last row, so they would have to walk right past us.

The group got closer. I tried to avoid my eyes, but I found myself looking up anyway. Perhaps they were too distraught to notice Alvin and me. And even if they did, would they remember us? Probably not; true, we were the reason they were sent to jail the first time, but so much had happened since then…

One of the police officers was opening the heavy door when both of the Vorstein siblings looked down to their right; they stared directly at my brother and me.

At first they looked a bit surprised to see us, but then came the most hateful stare I had ever seen. Their cold eyes narrowed, lips curled, and nostrils flared. They looked furious enough to break out of their handcuffs and ankle cuffs and kill us with their bare hands. The intense gaze seemed to say only one thing: You'll pay for this.

Klaus and Claudia were then pushed in the back by a large, bald cop. "Let's go," he commanded in a gruff voice. They walked forward, but the criminals' eyes never left us until they went out the door.

I gulped, feeling absolutely terrified. I had a feeling that if they ever broke out of jail again, we would be the first to go.

I turned to Alvin, whose eyes were narrowed, glaring at the spot Klaus and Claudia had been standing. There was absolutely no fear in his gaze, which matched the intensity of our old foes.

He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "They don't scare me," he said. "After all, it's not like they can break out of jail a second time, right? Especially now that they have all that security around them."

I cleared my throat. "Um, right. Of course."

Alvin seemed satisfied with this answer. "Hey, let's go get some ice cream. I could use a sundae."

I sighed. "Fine. It's too late to go to school anyway."

We left the courtroom and walked toward the front doors. Alvin chattered beside me, but I didn't hear him. Didn't those intense stares faze him at all?

Of course they did… that's why he was talking a million miles per hour. Alvin talked a lot when he was nervous.

I don't blame him though. I'm worried too. I know that's it's unlikely that they'll break out of prison again, but if they do, I know they'll come after us.

After those horrible looks, I'm sure of it.


	3. Goodbye

**#3: Goodbye**

Dave Seville stood alone in the nearly empty bedroom. It certainly looked a lot bigger now that the mattresses were bare, the desks were cleared, the wooden floor was bare, and calendars and posters had been removed from the wall. All the personality the room once had was gone; Theodore's candy stashes, Alvin's dirty laundry that covered the ground, Simon's books and science kits… all of it was gone.

The dark haired man sat on the edge of a bed—Theodore's, he thought, even though there was no evidence of it; the hunter green sheets had been stripped away—and sighed. The house hadn't been this quiet since… well, it hadn't been this quiet in eighteen years.

The boys had left for college over the weekend. Simon had graduated as Valedictorian of his high school class and left for Yale, one of the many Ivy League schools who offered him a full scholarship. Alvin was at USC, and promised Dave that he wouldn't party _too _much. Theodore was at a culinary school about thirty miles away, but it might as well be a thousand.

It was times like these when Dave wondered if he should have married. He could have had a wife so he wouldn't have been alone. Perhaps he should have married Marsha all those years ago.

But there he was, in his late forties, with an "empty nest." He knew he was going to say good-bye to the boys eventually, but it was so strange; he'd spent most of his adult life dedicating his life to those three boys, managing their careers and being a father to them. And now… they were gone.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what to do with himself now.

He wanted to call them, to see how they were doing, even though Dave knew his boys probably didn't want to talk to him. Simon seemed so focused. He was probably already studying or working on some project. Dave wasn't sure if he really wanted to call Alvin; he wasn't sure he wanted to know what his most mischievous son was up to in his first week at college. As for Theodore, Dave hated to admit it, but his sensitive son needed a little push out of the nest. Theodore was by far the most nervous about going away to college, and Dave didn't want to make him homesick by calling.

Still. He missed them. They'd been gone less than a week, but he already missed them. He missed Simon's logical explanations, Theodore's optimism, and even Alvin's crazy schemes. All these years, the house had been filled with so much noise; talking, arguing, crying, laughing, singing, dancing. So much life.

Now the only sound was the squeaking mattress when Dave shifted his weight.

Dave wiped his eyes—he hadn't realized he'd been crying—and stood. It wasn't like he was saying good-bye to his boys forever. They'd probably be back for Fall break. Well, Theodore probably would be at least.

But things wouldn't be the same anymore. They were young men now, not little boys. Simon building inventions wasn't just for school and leisure anymore; he'd get paid for making them now. Theodore would have to grow up a little more. Surely he'd lose some of his innocence in college. And Alvin—well, Alvin was past trying to impress the little girls in his third grade class or come up with ways to make money to buy a new skateboard. No, Alvin had clearly moved on, and that scared Dave. His daring son wasn't known for thinking things through. He could get away with it as a kid, but things were different now. He was an adult.

Dave made his way toward the door.

"Get a hold of yourself, Dave," he muttered. "They'll be fine._ You'll_ be fine."

Yet he couldn't remember a good-bye ever being this hard. He gently closed the empty bedroom door behind him; he knew he couldn't leave it open.

"Good bye, fellas," Dave said softly. He grinned. "See you soon."

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This kind of reminds me of the part in _An Extremely Goofy Movie_ when Goofy is looking around Max's room after he leaves for college. Hope you liked it; please review!


	4. Sympathy

**#4: Sympathy**

It was a rainy spring afternoon when the door bell rang that Sunday. It was basically like any other Sunday afternoon; Alvin had just rolled out of bed and was messily pouring milk into his bowl of cereal. Theodore was in the kitchen as well, trying to perfect his latest recipe. Dave wasn't home; he at his office, getting ready for the work week. And Simon had been in the basement, tinkering with a new invention.

Simon had been irritable when he answered the door; after all, his brothers were right there, yet they were too "busy" (lazy) to get it themselves.

"Hello?" Simon grunted as he pulled open the front door. However, he quickly forgot about his anger when he saw the woman standing on the porch.

She wasn't just any woman. She was a Chipette, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties. She was plump with sad hazel eyes and brownish grey hair was tied in a tight braid that went down her back. Her floral printed dress was faded and worn, and she carried a purse that looked three times Simon's age. There was a whisper of a smile on her wrinkled round face.

"Hello, sir." The Chipette's voice was quiet and raspy, as if she hadn't spoken in a long time. "Is this the Seville residence?"

"Yes," Simon confirmed, unable to take his eyes off of this woman. He'd seen very few Chipettes in his life; Jeanette, Brittany, Eleanor, and his mother were the only ones that came to mind. Was this stranger a relative?

"I'm sorry for just dropping by like this," she said. "But I felt like I needed to speak to you and your brothers. May I come in?"

Simon opened the door wider. "Of course."

She gave him a grateful smile and let herself inside. Simon politely excused himself to get his brothers. At first, Alvin and Theodore resisted greeting the mystery guest, but after Simon explained that she was a Chipette, curiosity got the best of them and all three boys joined her in the living room.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the woman said quietly. "I am Harriet, sister of Harry Chipmunk."

Alvin, Simon, and Theodore exchanged glances. Last week, they had read about Harry's death in the newspaper. The con artist had died from cancer that he'd been diagnosed with two years prior. None of the boys had been particularly upset; they hadn't even see the man in years, and most of their experiences with him had been pretty awful. He'd lied to them, scammed them, and ruined many days of their lives. Harry was not a nice man, and although the chipmunks didn't celebrate his death, they hadn't cared enough to mourn him.

Simon cleared his throat. "We're sorry for your loss," he said softly. They hadn't liked the man, but Simon figured someone ought to say _something._ This was his_ sister_ after all.

Harriet's small grin never wavered. "Thank you," she said. "Now I'm sure you must be wondering why I'm here…"

"Yeah," Alvin said with a frown. He crossed his arms against his chest. "We are, actually. We weren't exactly on great terms with Uncle Harry."

"Alvin!" Simon hissed at his brother's rudeness.

But Harriet let out a quiet giggle, not so different than their mother's.

"You must be Alvin," she said. "Harry did say that you were a little firecracker."

Alvin's eyebrows shot up. "He did?"

"Why of course," Harriet's soft voice answered. "I also recognized you from a photograph that Harry showed me years ago. My, what a looker you turned out to be."

Alvin sat up a little straighter. Simon could tell his brother was holding back a proud smile.

Harriet turned to Theodore. "And you, my dear, must be Theodore."

"That's me," Theodore said with a grin.

"Harry said you were the sweet one, the nice one," Harriet told the heaviest brother. "Harry admired you. He said he wished he could be as kind as you."

Theodore's green eyes widened at this news.

Harriet's smile widened a fraction when she looked at Simon.

"Ah, Simon Seville," she said. "I'd know who you were even if my dear brother hadn't mentioned you. I see your name in the paper frequently for all those fabulous inventions you're always coming up with. I remember Harry telling me how intelligent you were, even when you were a child."

Simon cleared his throat again, unsure of what to say. The fact that Harry the con artist supposedly talked about them so affectionately was odd to say the least.

"You boys may not know it, but you meant a lot to Harry," the Chipette spoke. "I know he played some cruel tricks on you all those years ago, and I know that he was wrong for doing it. But, believe it or not, Harry respected you boys. I think, in an odd way, he sort of thought of you as friends."

Alvin snorted. "Friends? Yeah right."

"Harry tried to pull a few more schemes after you last saw him," Harriet explained. "But after a while, he gave up and became a custodian. He was never satisfied with his job; Harry loved money, and always hated that he never had enough of it." Harriet sighed. "But he managed. To be truthful, I didn't see my brother much of our adult lives. Visiting me would cost Harry money, and my brother was very frugal after he accepted his role as a custodian."

"We don't want a whole life story," Alvin muttered under his breath. He grunted when Simon elbowed him in the ribs.

"But when Harry did visit me, he always managed to bring up you three," Harriet continued, seemingly not noticing Alvin's rude comment. "He'd say that he managed to fool a lot of people in his day—suckers, he called them—but he could never quite finish the job with the Chipmunks. My brother was a proud man, but I know that he always respected you boys for that. Plus, I think he genuinely liked you.

"When Harry got sick a few years ago, he wanted to call you boys, just to see how you were doing and perhaps even apologize. Obviously, he never got around to it; he figured you wouldn't want to speak to him, given your bitter history.

"The cancer dramatically worsened about three months ago. Within those three months, my brother wanted to make sure I honor a certain request."

The boys watched the old Chipette reach into her battered purse and pull out three unwrinkled envelopes. She handed them to each chipmunk, and after exchanging puzzled glances with one another, they opened the seals.

All of the envelopes contained a check for three hundred dollars, all from Harold S. Chipmunk.

"I know it's not much," Harriet said. "But Harry felt like he owed you something. He didn't have a family of his own, aside from me."

Simon stared at the check, and then looked up at Harriet. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we can accept this."

"Yes we can," Alvin said quickly.

"Simon is right," Theodore said, ignoring Alvin's dirty glare. "I mean, you were his sister. You should have this money."

Harriet folded her hands on her lap. "Oh, don't worry about me. Harry ended up leaving some money to me," she said. "Harry wanted you to have this."

Before the trio could respond, Harriet slowly stood and made her way toward the door.

"It was a pleasure meeting you boys," she said kindly. "I hope you enjoy what Harry left for you."

Simon stared at the check again, his mind whirling. This was so bizarre. Harry had left $900 for the Seville brothers? After all he put them through?

"Wait," Simon heard himself say, just as Harry's sister reached the door.

Harriet paused and looked at Simon with that never-wavering peaceful smile. "Yes."

Simon swallowed. He was going to ask her some questions; was she really who she said she was? Did she have proof?

But all those questions went out the window as Simon looked at the sweet old woman's smile.

"We're sorry for your loss," Simon said quietly. "You have our sympathy."

Harriet's smile widened. "Thank you, Simon," she said. Simon thought he saw her begin to tear up. "That means a lot to me." Then she opened the door and she was gone.

A few beats of silence went by before Alvin said, "Wow. That was weird."

"Yeah," Theodore mused, watching Harriet walk down the street through the wet window. "It's funny how you can affect someone's life so much and not even realize it."

"I guess so," Alvin muttered, staring at his check. "Well, at least we're all three hundred dollars richer now. I guess old Uncle Harry turned out to be useful after all."

Simon rolled his eyes, not even bothering to tell his brother that he missed the whole point of Harriet's visit and what she had revealed.

Theodore's words echoed in his mind: "It's funny how you can affect someone's life so much and not even realize it." It was probably the wisest thing his brother had ever said, and it really made Simon think.

He bespectacled chipmunk looked down at his check and decided he would give it to charity. How ironic would that be? The conman's money going to a charity in need. How fitting.

Simon and his brothers carried on through the day as if nothing unusual had happened. The didn't mention Harriet's visit to Dave; for some reason, they thought it was something that was scrictly between them and Harry. They never heard from Harriet again, but Simon didn't forget her. It was thanks to her that he no longer thought of Harry as a villian, but more of someone who let greed take over his life. Harry may have not been a great man, but it at least sounded like he felt some kind of remorse in the long run.

It showed Simon that people really could change, and that gave him the slightest bit of hope for this world.

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Wasn't sure how to end this one; that's why it's so abrupt (and stupid). I just wanted to finish this prompt so I could get to the next one :P


	5. Blue

A/N: Finally! A Chipette makes an appearance in this one! I have to admit, I think this is my favorite one shot so far. Which is strange, because usually I don't like writing Simonette. Hope you guys like it too.

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**#5: Blue**

Jeanette Seville stared at the tiny strip of paper lying in the plastic cup until her eyes watered. The only sounds in the small, modest kitchen were the dull hum of the refrigerator and the quiet ticking of her husband's wristwatch. She knew it was practically silent, but why did it seem so loud?

"Jeanette." Simon's soft voice made her flinch in her seat. "Jeanette, relax."

She looked at him and watched him rest his hand on her shaking knee. It was a nervous habit she'd had for years; she hadn't even realized she was doing it.

Jeanette offered a small smile before whispering, "Sorry."

Simon leaned down and kissed her forehead. "No need to apologize." He stood up straight and studied the empty package on the island counter. "How much longer to we have until we get results?"

Jeanette glanced at the timer, which was sitting right in front of them. She knew Simon knew it was there, and he knew exactly how much longer they had to wait; he was just trying to make conversation to keep her calm.

"About three more minutes," Jeanette replied.

Simon nodded. "Blue means yes, right?"

Again, something he already knew. "Yes," Jeanette said. "Blue is positive."

The reason Simon knew about this was because he and his wife had been in this situation before, too many times to count, actually. The results were almost always the same: No baby. However, that little strip of paper had turned blue twice before. The blue had twice promised the Sevilles of a child, filling their hearts with joy, excitement, and anticipation.

But both times, the promise had been broken. Shattered, destroyed, ruined. Both of those times had been the worst days of Simon and Jeanette's lives.

It had been nearly two years since the second fetus had died. After the second miscarriage, Jeanette had told her husband that she couldn't do it anymore. As bad as she wanted to be a mother, she couldn't stand going through this again. It killed her to think it, but perhaps she and Simon just weren't meant to be parents.

Then last few week Jeanette started feeling different, and she_ knew_. She knew right away that she was in store for this again.

The brunette felt a strong hand grab her own.

"I love you, Jeanette," Simon said, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll always love you. I just want you to know that."

Jeanette grinned. Her heart felt a little warmer.

_Briiiiing!_

The timer went off, making them snap their heads toward the slip. They looked at each other and both took a deep breath. They didn't say anything out loud, but the way they looked at each other was enough to produce pages and pages of unsaid words.

Jeanette silently picked up the cup and pulled out the slip. She looked down and the result was as clear as the sky outside:

"Blue."

Simon blinked a few times from behind his glasses. "Y-you said its blue?"

Jeanette nodded and bit her trembling lower lip. Simon pulled her into a hug and held on tight.

He didn't tell her everything was going to be all right. He didn't tell her that this time would be different. He didn't make any optimistic comment such as, "Third time's a charm!" Simon wasn't like that; his realism had sometimes bothered Jeanette in the past, but it wasn't the time for false idealistic comments; it may have been tolerated the second time, but not now.

"Whatever happens, happens," Simon said softly in her ear. "I will love you no matter what. We'll get through this, regardless of the outcome."

Jeanette let out a sob that had been trapped in her throat. So many emotions had filled her in the last ten seconds; fear, sadness, dread, and guilt for feeling all those horrible emotions that one isn't supposed to feel when she finds out she's pregnant. However, there was a tiny bit of hope laced in those tears as well; hope that she would get to raise a beautiful, wonderful child with this incredible man.

"I hope it works out this time," Jeanette choked out. "I really do."

"Me too, Jeanette," Simon whispered. He held her tighter. "Me too."


	6. Modesty

A/N: I struggled with this one; I couldn't get it to turn out the way I wanted it to. So I did the mature thing and gave up (which you can tell by the lazy ending). I didn't even proof-read this, so sorry if there are mistakes.

I actually got the idea for this story from Facebook. One of my "friends" (a.k.a. someone I vaguely know from high school over three years ago) posted a picture of curvy women in swimsuits from the 50's and 60's next to thin modern day actresses in Hollywood also wearing swimsuits. The caption read, "THIS (pointing to the curvy girls) is more attractive than THIS (points to the skinny actresses)." The retro women were beautiful, and I am all for promoting healthy bodies, but I thought the message actually accomplished opposite of what it was trying to do. Most people think of thicker females having the body image issues, but what about girls who are naturally very thin? Maybe they can't help that they are so small; it's common for someone to look at a skinny person and make some catty comment, like, "She looks anorexic," or, "She looks so disgusting. I can see her ribs!" I'm just saying that women of all shapes and sizes can be insecure about their figures, and everyone can be seen as beautiful in their own way.

I'm pretty sure this author's note is better written than this story. Haha. Well, here it is:

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**#5 Modesty**

Jeanette Miller sighed as she dusted sand off of her towel for what felt like the hundredth time. Two giggling children had just stepped on it as they ran by. Like everyone else there, they didn't seem to notice Jeanette.

She, her sisters, and the Seville brothers had only been at the beach for about thirty minutes, but that was thirty minutes too long in Jeanette's opinion. She had never been a big fan of the place. It was always crowded. Sand always ended up getting all over her belongings. People were so loud and distracting that she struggled to read her novel. The beach and Jeanette just didn't get along, which is why she always ended up sitting alone on her beach towel slathered in sunscreen while everyone else was out enjoying themselves.

Swimming was the only beach activity Jeanette didn't mind doing, but in order to swim, she'd have to take off her over-sized t-shirt and shorts to reveal her bathing suit…

This lead to the number one reason Jeanette hated the beach.

She placed her book beside her (she couldn't focus on reading it anyway) and observed the people. Many of them were part of families; middle aged people, children, elderly folks. But some people were young women or girls her age. Girls who weren't afraid of prancing around in barely-there bikinis showing off gorgeous tanned bodies.

It didn't help that her sisters were two of those girls. Jeanette looked down the beach and saw that the other two Chipettes were involved in a volleyball game. Well, Eleanor was. Brittany stood in the back row giggling and blinking at a few cute shaggy-haired guys. She looked like she just walked straight out of a _Sports Illustrated_ swimsuit magazine with her pale pink bikini and slightly wavy caramel-colored hair. The boys she was talking to certainly seemed to appreciate her appearance.

Then there was Eleanor, who, unlike Brittany, was very focused on the volleyball game at hand. In recent years, Eleanor's baby fat had gone to all the right places, giving her a voluptuous, curvy figure that boys drooled over; not that Eleanor noticed, of course.

Jeanette watched her sister spike the volleyball over the net and score a point for her team. Eleanor started doing a silly victory dance to celebrate. She probably thought she was being goofy and cute, but the way she was moving earned many lustful stares. Eleanor had no idea how sexy she looked in that mint green swimsuit.

Somehow the attractive body gene had skipped Jeanette though. She was rail-thin. No feminine curves, no cute bottom, and hardly any breasts to speak of. She basically looked like a skinny boy in a bathing suit, and it was less than attractive.

She looked a few yards away from the net and saw Simon and Theodore. Simon was collecting water samples from the ocean, and Theodore was being his loyal assistant. Simon had asked Jeanette to help, but she declined, saying she'd rather read. After all, helping meant she'd have to walk along the beach in shorts and expose her pasty-white toothpick legs and long feet. What would Simon think? Jeanette knew he wouldn't openly laugh at her or say anything, but he was a_ guy_. And guys didn't like super thin legs and feet that looked like surfboards.

Suddenly, Jeanette felt someone sitting beside her. She looked over to see Alvin frowning, his arms folded across his chest. Jeanette followed his gaze and realized he was glaring at the volleyball net; or, more specifically, at Brittany.

This wasn't surprising. Despite claiming to despise each other, things had been slightly different between Alvin and Brittany lately. Jeanette noticed the way they looked at each other when they thought no one else was watching. Feelings were slowly starting to be revealed, whether they liked it or not.

"Um, hi," Jeanette said awkwardly. She knew it sounded mean, but she kind of wanted him to leave. She understood that they had all sort of "set up camp" here by dumping all their things in the same spot, but the scowling teenager was getting sand all over her towel.

"Hi," Alvin muttered after a few beats of silence. He continued staring straight ahead.

Jeanette buried her toes under the sand in front of her. This was a bit… well, odd. Of all the Chipmunks, Jeanette had always been the least close with Alvin. It wasn't that she didn't like Alvin; they just didn't have much in common. Jeanette knew very little about sports and Alvin knew even less about classic literature. They just couldn't carry on a conversation.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jeanette noticed Alvin had turned toward her.

"How come whenever we go to the beach, you just sit here by yourself?"

Jeanette blinked at his question. Honestly, she didn't even know Alvin noticed her sitting alone all those trips to the beach. The only time he ever came near her at the beach was when he got a soda from the cooler, and he never even glanced at Jeanette when he did.

The shy Chipette shrugged. "I guess I just like being by myself."

Alvin rolled his eyes. "Oh come on," he said. "Nobody _likes_ being alone."

"Believe it or not, Alvin," Jeanette replied, "some people do."

The Chipmunk shook his head in disbelief. "But aren't you hot just sitting here? It's like, a hundred degrees out here."

"I'm fine," Jeanette lied. She hoped Alvin didn't notice that her hair was slightly damp with sweat.

"There's got to be a reason why you won't swim," he said slowly, as if he was really trying to figure it out. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, I know what it is. You're embarrassed about your body."

Jeanette's jaw dropped and it was all she could do not to gape at the Seville boy.

"Don't act all surprised." Alvin leaned back on the towel and grinned. "I can read women like a book."

Jeanette's face burned; not from the sun, but from embarrassment. Alvin had pinpointed her insecurity, and that made her feel beyond uncomfortable.

"Who cares what people think?" Alvin asked. "Just go out there and have fun."

Jeanette raised her eyebrows at Alvin's strong-looking biceps and defined abdominal muscles. _Easy for him to say…_

"What are you so worried about anyway?" Alvin asked her. "It's not like you have anything to be embarrassed about. You're skinny."

Jeanette stared at a scab on her knee. "That's the problem," she said quietly.

Alvin frowned. "Uh, don't girls like being skinny?"

The Chipette brought her knees up to her chest, debating whether to discuss this any further. It was strange talking to Alvin about this, especially when she could count on one hand the number of conversations they've ever had that have lasted over two minutes. But his laidback vibe that made her feel oddly relaxed, maybe even comfortable. Perhaps she'd been in the sun too long.

"Girls don't want to be this skinny," Jeanette told him. "Girls don't want to be so skinny that people whisper that the only reason you're so thin is because you starve yourself. Girls don't want to be so skinny that you don't fill out a swim suit. Everyone thinks that being thin is ideal, but trust me, people prefer curves."

Alvin was silent. He had a conflicting look on his face, as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to tell her something.

After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally spoke.

"Look," he said, "if it's any consolation, I know Simon doesn't care if you fill out a bikini or not."

Jeanette blinked and her heart skipped a few beats. Had she heard him right?

"H-he doesn't?"

Alvin chuckled. "Of course not. He's had a thing for you since, like, we first met. You could wear a paper bag and he'd still be into you." Alvin shrugged. "And for the record, he likes how you look. He said something about how you have a dancer's body or something. He says it's elegant."

Jeanette pondered over that comment. How ironic, considering she was far too clumsy to ever be compared to a dancer or called elegant. Still, she liked how it sounded.

Jeanette felt a blush spread across her face, but she couldn't hold back her grin. Simon was into her? As in, he liked her?

"Wait," Jeanette said, her voice full of skepticism. "You aren't just saying this to make me feel better, are you?"

Alvin snorted. "Please. As if I'd lie about this. Besides, it's not like Simon is ever going to be brave enough to tell you, so I thought I might as well let the cat out of the bag." His voice softened a little. "And no offense, Jeanette, but it's no secret that you have some kind of thing for Simon. So if he thinks you're cute, then that should be all that matters, right?"

Jeanette looked across the beach at Simon, who was putting water in a test tube with a dropper. Jeanette's heart started to race as she thought about how Simon liked her body. She felt her posture straighten and her face relax. She vaguely recognized the unfamiliar sensation as confidence.

"I think I'm going to join Simon," Jeanette said. She quickly took off her baggy shirt and shorts before she could change her mind. She stood, ready to make her way toward the water. But before she left, she looked at Alvin, who was still staring at her sister. She figured if Alvin was willing to spill a secret of Simon's, perhaps she could give him a little clue about Brittany.

"She doesn't really like those guys, you know," Jeanette said.

Alvin frowned. "What are you—"

"I guarantee you she's just flirting with them to get you to notice her," she told him with a small grin.

The Chipmunk smirked. "You think so?"

Jeanette shrugged. "You didn't hear it from me," she said as she began to walk away.

"Jeanette!" she heard Alvin call out. "Wait."

The Chipette paused. "Yes?"

Alvin's grin widened. "Nice talking to you."

Jeanette returned his smile. "Likewise."

When Jeanette finally got to the edge of the beach, her stomach flip flopped when Simon smiled at her. She wasn't beautiful. She didn't have sexy curves. She didn't have the charisma that attracted all the boys. But she was Jeanette Miller, and apparently that was good enough for Simon.

How odd that Alvin of all people was the one to make her believe it.

* * *

And no, this was not an Alvin/Jeanette love story. If you want to interpret it that way, fine, but it was definently not my intent. :P


	7. The Dark

A/N: This was written in a slightly different style than usual for me. A bit more staccato than usual, but since it's a present-tense story (something I've never tried), I think it fits. I just hopes it makes sense. :/ Enjoy!

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**#7: The Dark**

He stands to the left of the door. She stands to the right. Each of them glance around, making sure the long hallway is empty. Wordlessly, they slip into the small closet. As always, the first thing he does is lock the door, and the first thing she does is yank the string that controls the single light bulb. After the room turns black, she feels strong hands push her against the wall and eager lips press against hers.

Not everyone likes darkness. The lack of light makes people feel uncertain, which can lead to fear, nervousness, or feeling lost.

But Brittany prefers the dark. Being in the dark takes away her sight, but over the last few weeks of these secret rendezvous, she had learned to rely on other senses.

She feels the tightness of his muscles. The warmth of his mouth. His hair tickling her nose when he kisses her neck. And, of course, she feels his hands. Hands _everywhere; _cupping her face, getting tangled in her hair, gripping her waist.

She hears his breathing and her sighs. His moans and her gasps. The occasional cleaning product hitting the cement floor when they back into a shelf.

She tastes the heat of cinnamon gum on his tongue and the sweet residue of her strawberry Chap Stick on his lips.

She smells the shampoo in his hair, the cologne on his neck, and the detergent in his cotton shirt.

But the darkness has left her blind. She can not see him.

She can't see that cocky smile she loathes, or his stupid red hat, or those condescending, lazy blue eyes. Therefore, she can't be reminded of how charming that mischievous grin can be, or how endearing it is that he still wears that cap after all these years, or how those bright blue irises make her heart flutter when they focus on her. Without light, he's just a stranger; he's just someone to kiss on a boring day. Anything that suggests otherwise is hidden in the dark.

Most people avoid darkness because it brings out their fears; Brittany chooses darkness because it hides hers.


	8. Yearning

**#8: Yearning**

Theodore stared at the magnet and photograph-covered refrigerator, listening to his stomach growl. Images of what sat inside the fridge flipped through his mind like a slideshow; the blueberry pie, the chocolate pudding, the left over pizza. A whimper escaped from the chipmunk's throat.

It was only Day 4 of his diet and he was already convinced that he wouldn't make it through the week. It wasn't that he didn't like eating fruits and vegetables. He did; he'd never been a picky eater. But his sweet tooth was just too powerful to ignore, and in the past he never thought twice about grabbing a handful of candy after breakfast or going up for thirds and fourths at supper time.

Giving into those temptations had caught up with Theodore. It wasn't so bad being husky as a little kid. People would pinch his cherub cheeks and coo over his chubby tummy. However, there wasn't anything cute about being an overweight sixteen year old boy.

"Theodore!" a voice called from behind him. "Earth to Theodore!"

The chipmunk flinched at his name and turned to see Alvin.

"Are you going to get something to eat or are you just going to stand there all day?" Alvin sounded impatient, but there was an amused look on his face. "_Some_ of us are waiting."

Theodore mumbled an apology and stepped aside. He watched his brother rummage through the refrigerator and felt a pang of envy. Alvin never worried about food intake; he didn't have to. Alvin had always had a lean, athletic build despite what and how much he ate. Maybe it was because of a fast metabolism or maybe it was just that he was constantly burning calories. Whatever it was, Theodore wished he had it.

A moment later, Alvin emerged with a slice of cheesecake. Theodore's mouth instantly started to water. He was so focused on that delicious-looking dessert that he didn't see Alvin roll his eyes.

"You're not still on that diet, are you?" he asked. "You've got to get over her, man."

"Her?" Theodore played dumb.

He saw Alvin roll his eyes this time. "Yeah, her. As in Eleanor Miller."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Eleanor," Theodore said, looking at the tiled floor.

"Ha!" Alvin took a fork from the drawer. He slammed it shut, making Theodore flinch. "Let's not kid ourselves, Theodore. This has _everything_ to do with Eleanor."

Theodore didn't take his eyes off the floor. Alvin was right, of course. Last week, Theodore confessed his feelings for Eleanor after somehow being convinced that she felt the same way about him. His stomach churned as the details of the moment came back to him. Eleanor's jaw dropping, her eyes widening, her sad expression when she broke his heart into a million little pieces. The words "I'm sorry," "just friends," and "I'm sure there's someone out there perfect for you" ran over and over again in his mind until his head ached.

"You've got to get over her," Alvin was saying from the kitchen table. "I mean, sure, Eleanor is kind of cute I guess, but there are so many other chicks out there."

Theodore frowned at "kind of cute." Ellie was gorgeous. What did Alvin know?

"If you want," Alvin said with a mouth full of cheesecake, "I can set you up with someone. I'm pretty sure Jessica got dumped last week, so she's free."

"I'll pass," Theodore mumbled.

Alvin swallowed and shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I don't think Eleanor will like you any more just because you lose some weight."

"I have to try," Theodore said so quietly that his brother didn't hear him. He headed toward the fruit bowl on the counter and grabbed an apple before he could change his mind.


End file.
